


The Acquisition

by ashitanoyuki



Series: The Tower [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Class Differences, D&D Elements, Dystopia, F/F, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Lotor is good, Other, People referred to as pets but sorry there's no petplay, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-26 00:37:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20034967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashitanoyuki/pseuds/ashitanoyuki
Summary: Slated for execution after losing one-too-many gladiator fights, Keith is spared when he is acquired by Lotor, a notoriously sadistic member of the noble class. But Lotor hides a secret - his reputation is a sham, a cover he hides behind as he tries to save those he can from the horrific laws of The Tower.





	The Acquisition

**Author's Note:**

> The concept of The Tower must be credited to my dear friend Wisttic, who created it for our D&D campaign. He gave me full permission to play in his sandbox and write a Voltron AU, so here I am.
> 
> For the record, while this particular installment doesn't have much in the way of pairings other than light Ezor/Zethrid, endgame pairings include Keith/Lotor and Shiro/Lance (both fully consensual and as healthy as they can be in this dystopian world). If those are dealbreakers, either take this as a one-shot or back out now. Please also note that some future installments will be MUCH darker than this one, which is already... not particularly fluffy.
> 
> I've included more notes about this verse at the end.

Keith didn't bother looking up as the door to his cell clanged open. He knew what was coming. Three losses in a row – he wasn't entertaining anymore. He wasn't worth keeping around. He hoped they'd have the mercy to kill him before they harvested him for his few useful parts – but he doubted it. Bastard Level Fives, getting a kick out of making everyone lower than them suffer. Keith glared at his knees and allowed his tail to curl around his ankle, his ears flattening against his head. They were some of his only Galra traits – purple ears and tail, yellow sclera, fangs and claws. But he had human organs. Human insides. Useless for harvest, so the pits it was – or had been, rather.

  
“This one?” one of the guards said with disbelief. “He wants this one?”

  
The other guard scoffed and wrapped a hand around Keith's thin bicep. Keith considered resisting as he was hauled to his feet, before deciding it wasn't worth the effort and rising obediently.

  
“You know what they say about Lotor,” the guard said dismissively. “Who can guess what he's even looking for in a pet? Be glad he generally just shops around the gladiator pits and Level Three.”

  
Lotor? Keith stiffened at the name. Even as isolated as he'd been all his life, he knew about Lotor. The nobleman was notorious for spiriting people away to the Eighth Level – a place at once feared and coveted – only for them to never be seen again. Don't attract his attention, the gossip said. Keep your head down. If he looks at you for too long, slit your throat - it's better than the alternative.

  
Keith bit back a whimper, his knees giving out. The guards cursed as they fought to keep him upright. “Stupid runt,” one of them snapped, jabbing Keith in the rib. “Keep your feet and fucking walk.”

  
Keith shook his head, allowing his hair to fall in his eyes. “Just fuckin' kill me,” he snapped, his voice trembling. “It's what you were gonna do, right?”

  
One of the guards laughed. “And piss off Lotor? Yeah, right. Better smile, kid - you're a pet, now. Get off your knees – save the strain for when you're with your new master, got it?”

  
If he'd had anything in his stomach, he'd throw up. The guards dragged him to from the cell and down the hall, towards the entry to the level. Towards the stairs.

  
Keith couldn't hold back tears as they forced him to climb, preparing to deliver him to his new master.

* * *

  
“So, this one's a guy. And an ex-gladiator. And he was about to be executed. And something about him warmed your cold, shriveled heart so much that you just had to save him. That about right?”

  
Lotor looked up from the paperwork the arena had dropped off with him – the forms to officially own one half-galra named Keith, no surname. Former livestock, current gladiator, future pet. “That's correct, Ezor,” he said, raising an eyebrow at the girl. Half galra and half S'Tek, he'd fished her and her lover from an arena match doomed to end poorly nearly four years ago, bringing them into the ranks as his “pets,” along with Acxa and Narti. After that, he'd sworn he was done - he'd saved as many lives as he could in this wretched tower, surely.

  
But something about Keith's spark had given him pause, and well – here he was.

  
Ezor flopped on the couch next to him. “Former low-peasant like the rest of us? Like, maybe one of us knows him?”

  
Lotor shook his head. “Former livestock, actually,” he said grimly.

  
“How does a half-galra end up classified as livestock?” Acxa asked from across the room. An arena favorite, Lotor had not originally planned to rescue her – there were other tortured lives in greater need of his help. And then he learned – quite by accident, but arena guards were dreadfully loud – what her fate was between matches, her “role.” Acxa certainly was a beautiful woman – even he could see that – but no amount of beauty should entice men to rape.

  
Ironic, that she'd ended up with him, the most feared alleged rapist among all the nobles in the tower. His reputation went a long way towards keeping the lower classes from prying into his business, so he'd never bothered to correct the misinformation. No one needed to know that he was a virgin, that he'd never laid a hand on any of his girls.

  
And he had no intentions of laying a hand on Keith, either.

  
A knock sounded at the door of the complex that housed his pets. Lotor rose, rolled his shoulders, and exited the living room, shutting the door as he went. The deliverymen would see nothing but the horrific sex-dungeon that made up the parlor of his pets' home. Ezor and Zethrid used it, he was unfortunately aware. Lotor himself had never so much as sat on the bench.

  
He opened the door to reveal two burly Level Five citizens, each flanking a shaking, terrified boy. Keith stared at Lotor with teary, fearful eyes, his ears pressed flat against his head. A Level Eight token had hastily been affixed to the front of his shirt, upside down. Lotor allowed his lips to turn down.

  
“I'll take it from here,” he said coldly to the guards. He reached out and seized Keith by the collar of his shirt; the boy let out a soft, startled cry as Lotor dragged him possessively forward. “You may leave.”

  
“Yes sir,” the duo said clumsily. One of the two peered past Lotor for a split second, his eyes darting around the dungeon; the other offered a respectful bow and turned, knocking his associate on the shoulder and speed-walking away from Lotor's… storage space.

  
Lotor shut the door and immediately released Keith, stepping away from the boy and raising his hands in surrender. Keith stared at him with watery doe-eyes, and Lotor's chest tightened. “I apologize for the ordeal,” he said softly. “It had to be done. You're safe here.”

  
Keith's eyes darted around the dungeon, and he took a step back. “S-stay away from me,” he breathed, raising his hands defensively. Lotor, for his part, stared back, raising an eyebrow. Bold, for the boy to give an order to a nobleman – a nobleman who owned him, at that. “Don't touch me.”

  
“I wouldn't dream of it,” Lotor assured him. “Would you like to meet the others? Ezor, certainly, seems quite curious about you.”

  
Keith stilled. “Others?”

  
Lotor snorted. “Rumors and reputation aside, I don't kill my pets,” he said darkly. “They are all alive and well, I assure you. See for yourself.” He crossed the dungeon and threw open the door to the living room. “Go on.”

  
Keith shot Lotor a distrustful look as he edged his way towards the door. Lotor could practically feel the boy's tension as he crossed paths with Lotor, a small shudder running through the boy as he carefully entered the room.

  
Lotor could just barely hear the boy's inhale, and – ah. Livestock, then a gladiator. He'd probably never so much as seen a couch, much less the plush, opulent furniture that decorated the large living room. Ezor and Zethrid lounged together on one of the couches, while Narti perched – atop a bookshelf, really Narti? Acxa stood by the large window, one-way glass allowing a view of the tower while still maintaining privacy.

  
“Keith, was it?” Acxa asked kindly, smiling at the boy. “I'm Acxa. This is Ezor, Zethrid, and Narti. Lotor, I’m sure you've already heard of.”

  
Lotor watched discreetly as the boy looked between their four faces, carefully mouthing their names. “You're all Lotor's pets?” he asked, his voice quiet.

  
“Yep! It's a real damn upgrade,” Ezor said cheerfully.

  
“Damn, kid, you look like you got hit by a supply cart,” Zethrid said, chuckling. “Don't be so freaked out. You're in good hands, here.”

  
Keith fidgeted, clasping and twisting his hands nervously. “Then he is…” The boy chanced a fearful glance at Lotor before redirecting his gaze back to the girls. “Kind?”

  
Ezor grinned, Zethrid chuckled, and Narti took the opportunity to climb down from her shelf. Acxa, for her part, met Keith's gaze steadily.

  
“Yes, Keith,” she said seriously, her words brimming with the near-fanatic loyalty she'd displayed ever since Lotor had saved her. “Lotor is kind.”

  
It wasn't a word he would use for himself. There was no room for kindness within the tower – not outside of flattery and schmoozing and using one's position to make connections and increase status. But he supposed, to those he had saved from poverty and enslavement, from rape and forced combat – yes, in their eyes, perhaps he was kind. Powerless to change their wretched society, perhaps simply saving a few made him a better man than most.

  
Keith took a shuddering breath, and something in Lotor softened. Perhaps he was not kind in entirety, but in saving the boy's life, in bringing him to relative safety – there was a chance that this was enough, for now.

**Author's Note:**

> I should really be working on my WIPs like Desideratum, but eh, I've written enough in this 'verse just for fun to post the first installment, so, might as well.
> 
> The Tower is a class-based dystopian society in which individuals of various races (D&D races, with galra and alteans tacked on just because I can) live on certain levels according to their social class. Future installments will expand upon these levels, which range from "enslaved living batteries" and "sentient livestock" to "nobility." Credit for the initial concept goes to Wisttic.
> 
> This will be a dark series - obviously, it's a dystopia. I'm not sure how often I will be able to update, but some installments will be light, and some will make this one look like fluff.


End file.
